Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1887-11-11
Continued from Yesterday
A SHIP OF 40.
By BRET HARTE.


The emigrant childhood Of Rose Mott
had been more than once Swallowed by
scaIping knives, and she was acquainted
With death. She went fearlessly to the
couch, aud found that the dressing gown
was only All enwrapping Of the emaciated
and lfeless body Of ,!e i'errieres. she did
not retreat or call for nelp, but examined
him closely. He was unconscious, but
not pulseless; he had evidently been
strong enough 10 open the door for air or
succor, but had afterward fallen in tit
on the couch. She few to her fathers
locker and the galley fire, returned and
shut the door behind her, and BY the skill
full use Of hot water and whisky soon had
the satisfaction Of seeing faint color
take the place Of the faded rouge in the
CHASTITY cheeks. She was still chatting his
hands when he slowly opened his eyes
With a start, he made quick attempt to
push aside her hands and rise. But she
gently restrained him.
HEh-wharp' he stammered, throwing
his face back from hers with an effort and
trying 10 turn it TO the wall
you have been III, she said quietly.
''Drink this.
With his face still turned away he
lifted tie cup to his chattering teeth
When he had drained IL he threw Il trem-
bling glance around the room and at the
door.
There's no one been here but myself, -
she said quickly. II happened to see the
door open ns / passed. didn't think it
worth while to call any one"
The searching look he gave her turned
into an expression Of relief, which, 10 her
Infinite unenslncss, again feebly lightened
into one Of antiquated gallAutry. He
qgew the dressing gown around him with
an air.
''Ahl 1t is a goddess, mademoiselle,
hat has deigned to enter the cell where
wherc-l-aInuse-ny myself. 1t is droll-
Is 1t not2 | came here to make-what
you casl-the experiment OF your fathers
fabric. | make mysclf-hal ha!--llke "a
workman. All, bahi the heat, the dark
ness the plebeinn motion make my head
TO go round. stagger, faint, | cry out,
| fall. But what Of that? The great
God hears my cry and sends me an angel
VOilal"
He attempted an easy gesture Of gal
lantry, but Overbalanced himself and fell
sideways on the pallet with Il gasp. Yet
there was SO much genuine feeling mixed
with his grotesque atfectation, so much
piteous consciousness of the inefiectiveness
OF his falsehOod, that the young girl, who
had turned away, came back aud laid her
hand upon his arm.
You must lie still and try to sleep"
she said gently. II will return again.
Perhaps she added, there is some one |
can send for"
He shook his head violently. Then in
his old manner added, After mademoi-
selle-no one"
II mean she hesitated; ''have you no
friends?'
"Friends-ah without doubt" He
shrugged his shoulders. But mademoi-
selle will comprehend" -
you are better now,' said Rosey
quickly, ''and no one need know anything
if you don't wish it. Try to sleep. You
need not lock the door when 20; | will
see that no one comes in"
lie flushed fuintly and averted his eyes.
at is too droll, mademoiselle, is it not?''
"Of course it is, - SAID Rosey, CHANGING
round the miserable room.
And mademoiselle is an angelo